February flowers
by wolf of infinity
Summary: "Good Lord..." he breathed, seeing Alfred's hat lying discarded in the snow next to a rather large rock – spotted with blood - Alfred just wants to find a Valentine's present for the one he loves the most in the world... US & UK, father-son fic.


_While I am not all that fond of February 14__th__, or Valentine's Day as one would call it... it is a rather interesting source of inspiration for fanfics. This is not going to be a lovey-dovey romance story, however, but rather a father-son story. This is my Valentines-fic, with a twist~_

_(Oh, and just a note; Valentine's Day is probably a more modern concept, but please ignore that for the sake of the story ^_^'')_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia – Axis Powers, nor any of its characters. _

oOo

"For the one you love the most, in the entire universe?" Alfred blinked, his large, blue eyes wide with wonder as he gazed curiously at his brother. Matthew nodded, glancing quickly at the little opening to the closet, where they were currently seated. The next moment, his eyes crossed as a feather from an old hat on the top shelf fluttered down and tickled him on the nose. Blowing it away, he once again met Alfred's eyes.

"That's what papa said. He said something about a bed filled with rose petals, and handcuffs too, but I'm not sure what he meant about that..."

"Your papa is weird."

"Hey, don't talk bad about him!" Matthew gave a small pout, but Alfred just grinned to show he meant no offence.

The two boys sat in silence for a while, which was quite unusual, at least on Alfred's part. The only times he was silent, was when he was planning something, or when he was hiding from Arthur because he did something wrong. This time, it was the former, plans starting to take shape in his mind at rapid speed.

"Alfred?"

He gave a small jump at his brother's soft tone, and Matthew looked at him oddly.

"What are you planning...?"

His elder brother knew him much too well, but Alfred just gave a small smile.

"Nothing?" he hummed airily. The other opened his mouth to say something else, but a call in the distance cut him off.

"Mathieu? Where are you, _mon mignon_?"

"Francis is calling for you," Alfred stated, actually quite relieved at the distraction. While he knew he could tell Matthew anything, he was a bit afraid that the other would laugh at him if he told him what he was thinking at the moment. Swinging open the doors to Arthur's closet, he jumped out, pulling his brother along and running out into the hallway, careful to make it look like they were never there. A secret meeting place wouldn't be secret if they were found out now, would it? And the closet worked perfectly for their secret meetings. Arthur would never think of looking in his own room, after all.

"I'm coming, papa!" Matthew called down the stairs, before turning to Alfred. "Will you tell me later what you're going to do?"

"Who says I'm doing anything?" Alfred countered, and the other rolled his eyes.

"You're hopeless, Alfred..."

Alfred just stuck out his tongue at his elder brother, and Matthew headed down the stairs, turning at the bottom and waving up at him, despite their little argument. Alfred grinned and waved back, before heading off to set his plans into action.

oOo

Ok, this wasn't going according plan, in any way. He thought he'd had the perfect plan! He'd forgotten one tiny little detail, however. The fact that it was winter, and not exactly the season for flowers...

"I'm so stupid..." Alfred muttered to himself, the corners of his mouth tilting downwards in an unhappy expression that was rather uncharacteristic for the normally happy-go-lucky child. He couldn't help it, though. He was cold, tired and beginning to grow quite scared – though he loathed to admit it. The previously bright, sunny February day had turned to a cold, cloudy evening, and to make things worse, a chilly wind had made its appearance, as if to taunt him.

Why hadn't je just turned around when realizing it was snowy just about everywhere? Why did he have to walk around for so long that evening caught up with him? Why couldn't he just have made a card or something simple?

Kicking slightly at the snow with his boots, he sniffled, bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. The path he was walking was one Arthur had told him specifically not to go near. The thought of his caretaker made him slacken his pace uncertainly.

"Papa..." he tried to force away the tears burning in his eyes. Brave men didn't cry. Turning around, he moved to head back... only to give a choked squeak, as a large bird fluttered up from a nearby bush. Startled, he jumped away to the side of the path, only to find that there was no foot hold – only the steep edge. With a shrill cry, he toppled over and soon the world was spinning around and around as he rolled down, through snow, rocks and dirt. He could feel his clothes being torn, and as he thought he was almost safely down, his head connected with something hard, and the world was spinning no more...

oOo

Arthur was concerned. Very much so. He'd searched every room of the house when Alfred failed to show up to dinner. While it wasn't uncommon for the youngster to disappear for some amount of time, he never missed a meal, and he never disappeared for this long. How long had it been since he had last heard sign of the boy? Thinking it over, he came to the realization that hours had passed since Francis and Matthew had left. Several hours.

It was mostly a coincidence that he walked past the wardrobe in the entrance hall, noticing the open door. Frowning, he headed over, opening the door... and giving a curse. Alfred's boots and coat were both missing.

Damn...! The child knew he had to tell Arthur where he was going before heading outside! What on earth had possessed him to leave without telling? Hesitating no further, the Englishman fetched his own coat, tying a scarf around his neck, before practically leaping into his own boots and running outside.

The sun had just about set, leaving a dark blanket across the land, and that thought replaced his initial anger at Alfred's foolishness, with concern. Alfred feared the night. He feared it a lot.

"Alfred!" He could only hope he was running in the right direction, not really having anything to guide him but the light of the paraffin lamp he'd brought, and the faint traces he thought might be small footsteps in the snow.

oOo

A small whimper escaped his throat as he opened his eyes. He couldn't remember going to bed... Wait a minute, why was he so cold? And his body hurt too... what was going on? Sitting up, he realized he was outside. Alone. In the dark.

Panic engulfed him and his breath caught in his throat as he remembered what had happened, and where he was. The tears he'd managed to stop earlier, ran like streams down his cold cheeks now, and he gave a sob, soon followed by more.

"P-papa...! I'm scared..." he cried, and for a moment all he could do was sit there in the snow, trembling, as shadows began to dance morbidly around him, probably preparing to eat him. The thought of being devoured by something he couldn't see, but knew was hiding in the dark, made him cry even harder, putting his nerves even more on edge.

When something hooted in the distance, it set of a fresh bout of panic, and he screamed, leaping to his feet and taking off into a sprint before he even had the time to register what was happening. Behind him, an old owl blinked in wonder, gazing after the child for a while, before returning to its search for smaller, more edible creatures that it could have for dinner.

Alfred felt very much like a prey, however, running blindly, until his battered, bruised and trembling feet decided that they were tired of carrying his weight. The next moment, he gave an 'oomph' as he hit the soft ground, nose connecting quite harshly with the dirt. Nose bleed wasn't something he was unfamiliar with, but it seemed all that much more life threatening now that he was alone in the woods, and not safe at home where Arthur would stop the blood with a cloth and some soothing words of comfort.

A wail broke from his lips, as tears and blood mixed and fell in droplets to the earth. It was abruptly cut off, however, as he spotted something a bit ahead. For a moment, he forgot about his fear and the blood now tainting his lips.

There, beside a small stream trickling through the woods, a few flowers stuck up through the moss, as if just sticking their nose up to smell if spring had arrived yet. Getting to his hands and knees, Alfred headed over, gazing with wonder and amazement at the purple plants. He'd found flowers!

The next moment, his triumph crumbled to terror when he realized that he would never be able to give them to Arthur anyway. He was going to die out here, all alone, just because of some stupid flowers. That thought chilled him to the bone.

He was so cold... His body hurt. His blood was running like a river – soon he'd probably have no blood left, and he would be left an empty, dried up shell...

"I d-don't want to die!" Reaching out, he pulled one of the little flowers out of the earth, holding it tightly, but not too tightly in his palm as he curled up on the ground, feeling dizzy and weak. It didn't serves as much comfort, but he still clung almost desperately to it, as his eyes slipped shut. "I don't want t-to... die... papa..."

oOo

"Alfred!" Christ, where could the child be? Arthur had searched all around the house and its gardens, before spotting the footsteps again, following them as he ran through the snow. "Answer me, boy!"

The traces in the snow had led him on a wild goose chase, it seemed, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was even on the right track. The lack of proper light was making it difficult to see details, after all. Fairly soon, he almost began hoping that he was on the wrong track, as he followed the footsteps down a path he truly hoped the other hadn't taken.

"Al-" his voice drifted off, as he stopped, frowning as he realized that the footsteps had disappeared. Turning back, his eyes widened. They hadn't disappeared, but had moved to – and over – the edge of the steep side of the path. For a heart-twisting moment, he pictured the boy lying in a broken heap at the bottom of the slope, and as he carefully slid down with controlled ease, he gave a sharp intake of breath.

"Good Lord..." he breathed, seeing Alfred's hat lying discarded in the snow next to a rather large rock – spotted with blood.

"ALFRED!" swallowing his fear, he followed the new traces into the woods – although it was getting harder to spot the traces, when the snow gave way for moss-covered forest-floor. All the time as he ran, calling for the child, images fluttered through his mind. Alfred unmoving on the ground. _His child_, pale, cold...

"Stop it, Arthur..." he muttered at himself, clutching the hat in his grip as a cold wind breathed down his neck, as if to say '_you're too late. Much too late_'.

More blood caught his attention... Swallowing heavily, he nearly had to physically force himself to move on, following the fresh traces of red. If only he wasn't too late. If only Alfred was nearby, safe and sound, and...

He froze, blood draining from his face as he stared at the live image of what he'd feared the most. Alfred was curled up next to a stream, body limp, and his face a mix of ghostly white skin and red blood...

Arthur was next to the child in two, long strides, falling to his knees next to him. He could have sworn his heart had stopped, as he checked for breath and pulse with trembling fingers. The child's skin was freezing to the touch.

After a long, tormented moment, the Englishman heaved a sound of relief, and finally dared to breathe again when he found a pulse – weak, but steady – and heard the boy give a tiny whimper.

"Alfred! It's all right, child, you're safe now!" Pulling his coat off, he wrapped the young boy in it, before pulling him into his arms and holding him tightly to his chest. "We're going home. Don't you give up on me now, you hear?" With that he set off in a jog back to the house. It wasn't even that far, now that he didn't follow the child's traces in circles around the surrounding area.

"Almost there now... Everything is going to be all right."

Everything _had_ to be all right, or he had no idea what he was going to do...

oOo

Alfred couldn't quite recall what he'd been doing... But his body ached. Blinking out of sleep, he gazed up into a familiar roof. Even through his fuzzy mind, he recognized the pattern in that sealing – he'd used the intricate carvings as a distraction from nightly terrors many a time, at times when Arthur had allowed Alfred to sleep in here because he had a nightmare.

Sitting up slowly, he looked around, noticing that he was dressed in bandages and night clothes, as well as covered with blankets. His gaze came to a stop on the figure standing by the window, shoulders slumped and body rigid, as if he was greatly worried about something. The next moment, Alfred remembered everything that had happened, and realized with a pang of guilt that what Arthur was worried about, was probably him...

"P-papa..."

Arthur gave a start, whirling around and staring at him. Alfred's eyes widened when he saw the tears shimmering in his papa's green gaze. Arthur almost never cried. The sight, combined with everything that had happened made fresh tears escape down Alfred's cheeks too.

Before he could even notice that the other was moving, he was pulled into a tight embrace, Arthur's trembling arms wrap securely around him. He responded automatically by clutching back, sobbing into the man's chest. Every ounce of fear, tension and pain was released as Arthur rubbed his back. The Englishman said nothing, but he didn't have to – Alfred was just so happy to be home again.

"What on earth where you thinking, Alfred..." Arthur whispered after a long while, when Alfred had finally calmed down slightly, sniffling quietly as his tears came to a stop. Arthur's shirt was pretty wet with tears now, but he didn't seem to mind.

Those words reminded Alfred of his finding by the stream, and he pulled slightly away from the embrace, looking around. To his great relief, he found the flower on the night stand – although it was in a poor shape, from lack of water and sudden exposure of warmth. Taking it gingerly, he crawled back over to Arthur, who was eying him with confusion.

"I just w-wanted to... Matthew heard Francis talking about t-today... he said that you're supposed to g-give gifts for the one you love the most in the whole world... I t-thought..." he bit his lip, lowering his gaze as he held out the quite ugly flower.

"H-happy valentine's day, papa..." he whispered. After a while, he dared himself to look up, only to see a strange expression on Arthur's face. Like he was torn between crying again, and smiling. In the end, he gave a large smile, even as his eyes glittered with unshed tears.

"Oh, Alfred..." he gave a small, broken chuckle. Holding out his arms, Alfred accepted the invitation, yet again being pulled onto the other's lap. "Thank you!" he placed a kiss to the child's forehead, and Alfred gave a bright, but tired smile, leaning onto Arthur's chest.

Before long, he was sound asleep, happy that the day was finally over.

Arthur gave a small sigh, taking the flower from the child's hand, and eying it with a small, sad smile, Alfred's words echoing in his mind.

_The one you love the most in the whole world_...

While the original meaning of those words weren't quite like the children's innocent minds thought, it warmed his heart to the very core.

"You silly child... you're going to give me a heart attack one day..." he smiled, gently putting Alfred back to bed, tucking him in and tenderly kissing his forehead again. With a last glance at the child, he went to fetch some water for the little, innocent flower that had so very nearly cost him the one he held dearest in the world.

oOo

_By having read this far, and smiling at least once during the whole thing, you have hereby agreed to the terms that I will not be held responsible for any dentist bills you might get from reading it._

_I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review telling me what you thought of it~ It would warm my heart! ^^_

_Mon Mignon – My cutie_

_Oh, and for the flowers blooming in February – it IS possible! I've seen it. :3 _


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